


Penny for my Thoughts

by redcrowblue



Category: Original Work
Genre: Flowers, Free Verse, Gothic, Metaphors, Poetry, Sonnets, The Mad Oracle, Vampires, Vegetarians & Vegans, Zoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcrowblue/pseuds/redcrowblue
Summary: (imported from wattpad so i can stop telling people to read stuff there)just a bunch of poems i wrote





	1. Twilight Harbinger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i consider this to be the best thing I've ever written. i've never before or since been possessed by such fervor to write something down.

The mad man's madness makes him sad;  
the sad man's sorrow sings  
So swearingly do trav'lers lie  
of fickle forsworn things

Darkness sways on mountaintops;  
the light leans closer still  
No shaded teeth can bite through truth,  
lest spirit'd souls fall ill

While worldly eyes watch wicked wings  
fly closer fright by fright  
No mortal tool can strike him down:  
the conduit of the night

The slumb'ring earth awakes enraged,  
her ancient tendons groan  
They bend and snap like frothing dogs  
as the imp king builds his throne

So diamond tears and crystal blood  
adorn his midnight mane  
His fangs upturned in promised doom  
O, fragile souls refrain

The wheel of stars weep soft and slow  
the spotlight flickers dead  
He shines most clear in ebon shade;  
dark mist swirls 'round his head

Beware this king, this eldritch thing,  
the savior of the scorn'd,  
for he will ride on death itself,  
the mistress of the mourn'd

And now you know what you must fear,  
but now is much too late,  
so now you must decide if you  
will bow and take your fate

The darkest lord will not admit  
rebellion or respite  
when blood moon rise avert your eyes  
from the champion of the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah this is about dracula lol


	2. The Zoo is Closing Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gentrification commentary? madagascar gothic? dr. suess fever dream? who knows...

The zoo is closing down  
and the animals will remain.  
They’ve had their beds made for them  
and yet they choose to stay.

The mighty lion rests  
on his brush-covered  
cement floor laurels.  
Every morning he wakes up  
and stretches  
and yawns  
and paces  
and prances  
and prowls  
for no audience in particular  
until he’s earned his rest.

The little monkeys swing through their jungle for days on end.  
Ropes and rubber tires,  
hardly a substitute for a world they barely remember.  
But they chatter on and on and on,  
never noticing the absent friends  
who have left them to themselves.

And if you could see the birds,  
those beautiful, colorful,  
rainforest birds,  
desert birds,  
jungle birds,  
you'd be quite surprised,  
to see how they've flocked together.  
They've gathered in their big steel cage  
to clip each other's wings.

"But how will they eat? Who will feed them?"  
the reporters ask you all.  
Well I asked the elephant,  
and although he had enough already  
I lent to him my ear  
and he told me in his low, soft voice  
his gravelly voice  
that honestly he didn't know who took care of them in the first place.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: i am not a vegan

There is a single source to draw one's breath:

To live by stealing life from other souls

To burglarize from them the burning coals

Of lavish life now turned to bitter death.

Prolonging shallow life in all its breadth

Exists to stand an empty, futile goal,

And stands to be our superficial role

To breathe unsanctioned from our guilty breast.

Alas, what bitter ironies remain,

Needing creatures deemed much less than us

To sacrifice themselves for selfish gain;

To die a slighted death for hungry cause.

So carelessly, we dine without refrain

And overlook the being there once was.


	4. I, the Prodigal

A little field of daffodils

Sits in the bosom of two hills.

And here I sit amongst good friends,

Our conversation now begins.

They tell me of their hopes and dreams,

They tell me of the little things,

Of how they live and love and die

And how they watch the days go by.

I look at them, they look at me.

They ask what I think I should be.

I tell them true, I do not know,

And all too soon it’s time to go.

They nod their heads, they shake my hand,

They give no scorn or reprimand.

And as I leave, I know for sure

I follow some far distant lure.

I can no longer chase that dream,

These daffodils have made it seem

So sad, so drab, no longer bright,

A little star in darkest night.

That I forsook the sun to see,

And still the sun, it calls to me.

It guides me to those sun-drenched hills.

I return to them, my daffodils.


End file.
